, nor
indeed any one in Issoudun knew the value of the pictures, and the
crafty Max thought he had bought Flore's triumph for a song, as she
paraded triumphantly before the eyes of the astonished town, leaning
on the arm of her master's nephew, and evidently on the best of terms
with him. People flocked to their doors to see the crab-girl's triumph
over the family. This astounding event made the sensation on which Max
counted; so that when they all returned at five o'clock, nothing was
talked of in every household but the cordial understanding between Max
and Flore and the nephew of old Rouget. The incident of the pictures
and the four thousand francs circulated already. The dinner, at which
Lousteau, one of the court judges, and the Mayor of Issoudun were
present, was splendid. It was one of those provincial dinners lasting
five hours. The most exquisite wines enlivened the conversation. By
nine o'clock, at dessert, the painter, seated opposite to his uncle,
and between Flore and Max, had fraternized with the soldier, and
thought him the best fellow on earth. Joseph returned home at eleven
o'clock somewhat tipsy. As to old Rouget, Kouski had carried him to
his bed dead-drunk; he had eaten as though he were an actor from
foreign parts, and had soaked up the wine like the sands of the
desert.

"Well," said Max when he was alone with Flore, "isn't this better than
making faces at them? The Bridaus are well received, they get small
presents, and are smothered with attentions, and the end of it is they
will sing our praises; they will go away satisfied and leave us in
peace. To-morrow morning you and I and Kouski will take down all those
pictures and send them over to the painter, so that he shall see them
when he wakes up. We will put the frames in the garret, and cover the
walls with one of those varnished papers which represent scenes from
Telemachus, such as I have seen at Monsieur Mouilleron's."

"Oh, that will be much prettier!" said Flore.

On the morrow, Joseph did not wake up till midday. From his bed he saw
the pictures, which had been brought in while he was asleep, leaning
one against another on the opposite wall. While he examined them anew,
recognizing each masterpiece, studying the manner of each painter, and
searching for the signature, his mother had gone to see and thank her
brother, urged thereto by old Hochon, who, having heard of the follies
the painter had committed the night before, almost despaire